and all your money won't another minute buy
by Henna Laru
Summary: What memories fuel Professor Lupin's patronus charm? How many happy memories does the scarred professor have anyway? Wolfstar slash one-shot; slightly AU. Please inform if you feel the rating is inaccurate, I felt 13 yos could handle it. Title: Kansas' Dust in the Wind.


I do not own Harry Potter, just a copy of each book [plus two of the half-blood prince for some reason] and half the movies. Plus an account here.

* * *

Sleeping in less-than-perfect conditions has always been something Professor Lupin prides himself for; after all, when one has to fall asleep broken and bloody on a hard and cold floor monthly, one's standards degrade. Waking up alert and ready to act, not so much, but the war made everyone a little more anxious and quick-to-cast. So when the tall grayed, scarred professor wakes up on the Hogwarts Express to dementors, it doesn't take long for him to cast his Patronus. Years of practice, he supposes, and a relatively large reservoir of memories, especially for a werewolf.

It takes a split second for his quick mind to settle on a memory, but that split second is bittersweet nonetheless as he goes through all the happy moments he had, all taking place at the school the train is, was, headed for.

* * *

The first memory is the first one he ever tried on a Patronus. The details have become fuzzier over the years, but the feeling has persisted. Remus' first year at Hogwarts came with his first ever friends. James Potter: a scrawny boy with chicken legs, messy hair, and glasses tilted on his face; Sirius Black: the white sheep of The Noble and Most Ancient House of Black, with grace and breeding oozing from his appearance until his aristocratic smirk broke off into a mischievous toothy grin; and Peter Pettigrew, a squatty twitchy little boy with licorice wands handing out of his pockets. He and Peter only befriended the other two by accident, them bursting into the compartment they awkwardly shared, already boasting of pranks they pulled in their respective households.

Remus had known better, or so he thought, than to think that they would treat him the same if they _knew_. That they would still protect him from Slytherin bullies if they knew he could break bones with ease, their bones; if they would still joke with him about his studies if they knew that he would never have a career, that he would be rightfully untrusted as soon as the Ministry checked on him for employment status.

Even his parents, once so unconditionally loving, lost the same spark and sincerity in their dealings with Remus after the bite, gaining a wary tendency to never turn their backs on the small boy. To be treated so normally for once, reminding himself that he was not in fact normal and thusly not due this privilege, warmed the tiny scarred boy's aged-beyond-years heart.

* * *

The first memory pales in light of the current one passing the werewolf's mind: the true acceptance in his second year.

He remembers how the two boys, Sirius and James, cornered him one evening as he sat by the common room fireplace reading a large volume for recreational purposes. When their shadows blocked his light, he glanced up preparing to be teased for nerdiness and dragged off to play exploding snap and eat cakes gotten from the house-elves in the kitchens. When the boy instead saw the serious glint in Sirius' gray eyes and James' hazel ones, he gulped.

They had figured it out, smart boys they were even if they didn't apply themselves. And they were angry alright. Not because Dumbledore had allowed a _werewolf _into their school, that they had been housed with a _dangerous creature, _but because Remus hadn't told them. Because Remus had lied and said that his mother was ill, yet come back time and time again looking more and more ill himself. And because his super-strength, as James put it, would come so incredibly _handy_ in pulling pranks.

They told Peter a few weeks later when Remus was retaking a test he missed due to his _furry little problem_, as James and Sirius now referred to it to the amusement and fondness of the staff. The way that Sirius kept his eyes on Peter whilst he, albeit shakily and at quite a distance, announced his support, made Remus suspect that the chubby youth hadn't much say in the matter.

* * *

There's the completion of the Marauder _pack _in the boys' fifth year. Try to discourage though he did, the other three boys, led by Sirius' insistence and stubborn perseverance in spite of Remus' protests, succeeded in their years-long task of becoming animagi.

For the first time since he was six, he experienced a painless full moon, protected from himself by Sirius the dog, James the stag, and Peter the rat.

Their newfound nicknames and strengthening of their group made Lily shake her head at the gender: _wizards._

* * *

Next is Remus discovering just how different his fondness for Sirius is than his for the other boys. Next is how he remembers crushing the bench in the great hall when Mary MacDonald, a giggling friend of Lily's, had the _nerve, _the _audacity_ to ask _his _Sirius out to Hogsmeade. Remus didn't allow himself to breathe again until Sirius turned her down with a smirk, wink, and arm thrown over Remus' shoulder. Remus has to remind himself and his inner wolf again and again that his elegant friend is off limits, unavailable, uninterested.

The inner wolf of Remus' had always made a point not to listen to the scrawny adolescent boy. The next full moon the wolf wouldn't let either of the other boys near the black dog, and he falls to sleep curled around the shaggy black form, growling softly at any movement the stag or rat makes and licking a wound on the dog from rough play. Even Peter formed his suspicions.

After Remus had made a full recovery, James conveniently decided it was time to try and ask Lily out, making it the third attempt in twenty-four hours, and left Sirius and Remus alone in the room, seated on either bed facing each other.

Remus figured how this conversation would go. He had screamed at the wolf through that night to stop, to let him retain this one secret, this one flaw of his, from the other boys. The wolf hadn't listened and in the back of his mind Remus had mourned his pack that would surely dissolve as they put two and two together.

"So," Sirius had begun and Remus braced himself for rejection; not just awkward romantic rejection but absolute. Sirius Black was, after all, a Black. Pureblood lines, while allowing greatly for incest, had no pity for homosexuality for the practical purpose of inability to produce and heir and recreational purpose of another group of people to hate and shame. It was enough that Sirius had accepted the smaller boy for being a half-blood werewolf, but being gay and **mated** to the taller youth had to be too much.

Remus held his tongue in wait, before Sirius blurted out in his brash mannerisms with:

"It's okay, you know," then Sirius, for once in his life, lost his shameless, blunt, elegant way of putting things in favor of a muddled confession with his eyes trained on the bed he was seated Indian-style on, fingers picking at the red blanket edge, and light pink blush gracing his high cheekbones, "I mean, me too."

And Remus grinned and the wolf howled its pleasure when they caught up.

* * *

There's their first awkward date in Hogsmeade. Sirius bought the werewolf chocolate and the Hogwarts girls in the sweets shop giggled at the pair.

They saw James and Lily, on a not-date, and planned their snow-ball attack. They ended up in a full-out snow war against the couple, ending in the two boys rolling down a hill and landing with Sirius sprawled inelegantly on top of Remus. Sirius brushed snowflakes out of the werewolf's tawny hair before they realized their positioning and blushed.

Their first kiss was wet and cold and absolutely perfect.

* * *

There's the sight of Sirius lying naked between Remus' scarred legs several months after that first kiss; his aristocratic smirk and lit grey eyes, the only evidence of their… activities being his tousled inky curls that Remus' hands found purchase in after the Black ducked to engulf the werewolf.

The way that the long and smooth boy had swirled his tongue without hesitation; chuckling, which Remus felt rather than heard, when the smaller boy bucked and his, also lined with the pale shiny lines, hands abandoned the boy's hair to grasp unto either side of the bed, leaving finger prints in the wood, gasping for breath.

The way the boy hollowed his cheeks and didn't remove his mouth until after Remus growled through his climax. The way the elegant youth licked the last of the bitter result with a soft smile and crawled back up to rest in scarred arms, not looking yet for retribution.

* * *

Lastly, there's the seventh year when Sirius made James and Peter leave them alone and Remus knew it was the end of them. He knew that Hogwarts wasn't the real Wizarding World, that he would never get a job or live a normal life. Sirius and James were going to be aurors and Remus was going to be left behind dreaming of the days he was graced with their presence.

Remus resigned himself to telling Sirius that he understood and closed his eyes to avoid making it any worse than it had to be. When he felt the tap on his shoulder, without opening his eyes he began his speech about how appreciative he was to have the chance to be friends, and more, with Sirius, and that he only wished the best for the Black. He didn't make it too far before he was shaken and yelled at by Sirius, anger darkening the gray eyes Remus loved so much. Sirius stormed out, tossing something unto the bed, leaving Remus dumbfounded, standing rigid in shock. Remus walking stiffly with a stupid expression to look at what had been thrown; his brain for once not working as he lifted the ring with the crest of the The Noble and Most Ancient House of Black off of the Gryffindor red bed cover.

...

The moment Remus always came back to was the moment when Sirius returned, and without saying a word but still graced with a wary expression, and simply slid the ring unto Remus' thin hand before leaving once more.

* * *

The irony is not lost on Professor Lupin, as he casts his glimmering Patronus fueled by this memory between the child of James and Lily and dementors looking for Sirius Black: Azkaban escapee, ex-friend, ex-lover, ex-fiancée and traitor.


End file.
